Rhea Mukhopadhyay Chapter 1 The city had forgotten how to breathe. Its skyline was a jagged monotone of dull stone, concrete ribs pushing upward into a sky that had been the same color of ash for seven years. Seven years since the last rain. Seven years since the clouds had parted in anything but a lifeless smear. No thunder, no lightning, not even the scent of petrichor. Just stillness. Grey had settled like a parasite into everything: the windows of apartment blocks, the uniforms of the Bureau, the faded billboards with slogans that had lost all meaning. Grey had leached…